The Great Beyond
by CountingCrows
Summary: Set around a year after Fallout 3 When a radio broadcast is heard from inside a Vault almost two-hundred miles from the D.C. Ruins, three unlikely heroes rise up to the challenge to do what no other has done before them - venture out of the Vault.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

I don't remember the day the bombs dropped. I wasn't born yet. I'm really glad that I wasn't around. I could never imagine the horrors that those people had went through. Those who made it in to the Vaults - and those who didn't.

I try to comprehend what it would be like, living peacefully, before D-Day happened. None us have any clue as to what that kind of life would have been like. It's like an entirely different reality, or a fictional story written by a writer with one heck of an immense imagination.

That's all they really are now - stories. Of course no one is alive anymore who could remember life before the bombs – it's been over two hundred years. The only things we have are photos in books; these pictures of a place far, far away, never to be seen by another living person again. Photographs with forests of lush green trees, clear blue lakes and rivers, and wildlife roaming the land, were like ancient artefacts that should be held in a museum for people to look and wonder at.

These photos, special as they are to me, lay on the shelf of my room, holding this mystifying view into another world that only I have the privilege to behold. I feel as if I must treasure them; hold on to them and preserve their memory like we do to lost loved ones.

When I pick them up and look at these photos, they sadden me. A world so beautiful, lost to us forever. I can't help but feel burdened by the acts of my fellow brothers who have lead to this magnificent loss.

I can't stand looking at these photos for very long as they bring with them waves, fleeting as they are, of depression. These very photos that I hold are the cold, hard evidence of everything humanity has destroyed. Everything God has given us, mindlessly thrown away. Discarded like a worthless candy bar wrapper.

I close my eyes and let the photos fall from my hands.

I had been waiting seemingly my entire life to see the outside world. Now it was finally time. Time to step out of this underground cavern and see the light of day, the light of the Sun – the actual _Sun!_ - for the very first time. I was scared, nervous, excited – pretty much every emotion that you could possibly feel all at one time, in one big explosion of anxiety.

In just a few moments time, I, the barely eighteen-year-old Henry, along with my two life-long friends Gary and Abigail, would be the first occupants of Vault 324 to step outside since right before the bombs dropped just over two hundred years ago.

I stood at the front of the crowd with Abigail on my left and Gary to my right. The Overseer, an older grey-haired fellow, stood at the podium to the front and left of us; the crowd's attention currently focused on him. I remained stock still, hands clasped behind my back which was arrow-straight, the posture and stance of a soldier lined up for his officer. A wide smile was painted on my face, one that most likely looked a bit too forced.

Gary was standing in a similar at-ease stance, his chin up high; a proud moment for him. It was a proud moment for me too, of course, but I refused to treat it like some sort of sending off celebration of a group of great heroes, which is the last thing that we were.

We were just kids, the three of us, after all. I had just turned eighteen not two months ago. Abigail, the beautiful young girl that she was, was, well, just that – a girl. Only seventeen years old, she was hardly the type of 'saviour' that people would send off into the Wasteland in hopes of saving numerous people.

I use the term 'saviour' in a sense that that is how Abigail views her chosen task. When all members of the Vault were approached to volunteer to become the ones to venture out into the Wasteland to procure aid and supplies to keep our Vault family from disappearing into the oblivion, Abigail graciously leaped at the opportunity of the offer despite repeated explanations from her Mother and Father about why she should not go, how the Wasteland is too dangerous for a girl, and so on and so forth. Sometimes her parents coddle her a bit too much. Abigail needs them to give her more freedom to grow and become her own person, rather than always trying to keep her safe from harm. They've already done that her whole life by having her grow up in this Vault; what more could a parent ask for?

Abigail's strong will and never floundering faith have always been traits in her I've admired. We've been friends since we were toddlers when we used to play with our building blocks in our playpens. We've always been there for the other all through the pains of adolescence to the current stage of early adulthood. I've watched Abigail grow up to be the woman that she is today and I couldn't be more proud to call her my friend.

She stood at my left, in the same stance as me and Gary, her eyes focused, a look of determination on her face. Her straight blond hair fell down past her shoulders and I slipped a glance over to see the light bounce off it, her hair shining like an angel's halo.

Gary shifted a bit to my right and I noticed that he wasn't looking straight at the crowd, but past them at a point above their heads. It probably helped him with the nervousness that I knew he was feeling. Gary usually wasn't very good with crowds, he always got tongue-tied and fidgety when standing in front of a group of people, let alone speaking in front of them.

He was by far the youngest of us. At merely fifteen years old, it would normally be a shock to most people that this short, fair-haired fifteen year old boy of all people would be chosen to venture out of the Vault as one of Vault 324's seekers of salvation.

Gary was not your regular fifteen year old kid, however. He may look like a little pipsqueak but, in my opinion, there is no one in this whole Vault who is more fit for the task than Gary. The kid was the smartest person that I knew. A certified genius from the age of five, Gary was the brains of not only us younger generation, but of the entire Vault. Gary has been working with the Overseer and the other officers in charge of Vault 324 since he was learning advanced mathematics at the age of ten. He was always assisting them in their Vault operations, watching and learning every aspect of maintaining and leading all operations concerning the Vault 324.

I've always predicted he'll become the next Overseer one day. Since our current Overseer is getting up there in age, I have no doubt in my mind that we'll be seeing Gary becoming the youngest Overseer in America when the day comes that someone is to take over.

Of the collective eighteen current inhabitants of Vault 324, I've always been the pre-determined one to be the chosen soul to venture out into the Wasteland, whether I knew it or not. I feel that, as the only young male between the ages of sixteen and twenty-eight, the Overseer had instantly had me pegged to be a part of this chosen group.

I've never considered myself to be a leader of any kind. I'm more of a 'do-things-my-own-way' kind of guy. I don't give orders, nor do I even follow orders very well either. Everyone always calls me an under-achiever, whatever that's supposed to mean. My job in the Vault is simple, not very ambitious; a member of the Security personnel. Not a computer and math whiz like Gary, nor a doctor like Abigail wants to become (she currently trains under the watch of several of the Vault nurses as well as Dr. Roberts, our Vault physician).

I never had the aspiration to be anything special. I think that, since as long as I can remember, my aspirations have always been to someday leave the Vault. As dangerous and problematic as that may be, it's something I've always dreamed about. Now here I was – about to fulfill that dream. But then what?

"This, my fellow people", the Overseer proclaimed from the podium, "is a proud moment for not only these three standing before us, but for every man, woman, and child in Vault three twenty-four." The Overseer looked back at us over his shoulder with a fatherly smile of pride.

The Overseer had been talking for at least fifteen minutes now and my legs were starting to get sore. I haven't been paying attention to a single word he's been saying. Gary and Abigail were probably listening intently, hanging on every word coming out of his mouth just like everyone else in the room was.

I never did have the longest attention span. Some people might say that's why I've always been getting into trouble since I could walk. I couldn't help it though. I was less than a single hour away from becoming one of the first people to take a breath of air outside of this Vault in over two hundred years. That should at least warrant an understanding for my lack of attention.

"We the people," continued the Overseer in what sounded like the beginning of a historically famous speech, "will hold our three brave leaders in our hearts and in our prayers. They will always be in our thoughts and we will always be praying for their safe journey, as well as their safe return to their home. Let us bow our heads in prayer."

Everyone in the room including Abigail and Gary followed suit and I quickly did the same as the Overseer launched into a heartfelt prayer to our Father for our safety and guidance in our journey and for our ability to bring back the needed aid to the good and faithful people of Vault 324.

Finally the Overseer lifted his head, "Amen", he said. "Amen," said everyone else.

This week had started like most others. It was my shift in the Vault Security Surveillance room where I was stationed in front of several screens that showed me numerous hallways and rooms of Vault 324. Rarely anything interesting ever happened in front of those cameras. Having the Surveillance Room shift always bored the hell out of me.

On this occasion, as usually on _every _occasion, I had my feet up on the desk, with the chair tilted back, and my eyes closed, dozing off during another lazy afternoon. I had my cap with the vault security team logo on it pulled down over my eyes, completely ignoring all the monitors. Not that anything would ever need my attention anyway.

A buzz from the nearby intercom on the wall beside the door startled me, and I pulled my cap up, snapping out of my light nap. I almost fell out of my chair as I swung my feet off the desk.

"Henry!" came the voice, high and slightly annoying, emitting from the intercom. "Henry, get up! I know you're napping!" Gary. Gary of course would be the one to wake me up from my blessed naptime for some ungodly reason that was probably of no mere importance to anyone but him.

"Dammit, Gary," I mumbled as I stood up and walked over to the intercom. I pressed the button, "What do ya want, Gary?"

"Henry, you've gotta hear this!" He sounded very out of breath and excited about something. What it could possibly be, I have absolutely no clue. Maybe he figured out the chemistry equation to get rid of radiation. Or maybe he discovered the meaning of life.

Whatever it was, I'm sure it could wait until later.

"Thanks for ruining my afternoon nap, you bonehead," I accused.

"Henry, in the cafeteria! Get out here, you HAVE to hear this!" He wouldn't stop pestering me until I came out there, I could tell already. When Gary had something on his mind, he was persistent about it.

"Alright," I gave in, "gimme a second."

I sauntered out of the Surveillance Room and headed down the corridor to the cafeteria.

Inside the cafeteria, most of the Vault residents had gathered around the counter. Some sat at the booths, their attention directed at what was behind the circle of people gathered at the counter. They were all quiet, except for a couple kids who were arguing over something but were quickly hushed by one of the adults.

I walked up to the group of people, trying to peer over top of their heads to see what was going on. Everyone in the Vault was grouped together in the room except for the Overseer, Dr. Roberts, and maybe one or two others.

It was then that I noticed Gary standing on a chair attempting to look over everyone on the far side of the semi-circle of residents. Nudging him to get his attention I whispered "What's going on?" Quickly he shushed me with only one word, "Listen!"

Then I finally heard what everyone was listening for. The volume of radio static rose as someone turned the knob up and, amongst the crackling, the voice of the radio broadcast became audible.

I squeezed myself into the half-circle of vault dwellers beside Gary to see that Abigail was the one perched at the radio. She swivelled the tuning knob, trying to find the clearest frequency to get rid of all the static.

What could be on the radio that was so important? There was, as everyone knew, only one radio station in all of the Capital Wasteland – Galaxy News Radio.

We were only first introduced to GNR a few months ago when Gary (of course it was Gary of all people who would be fiddling with a radio) stumbled upon a broadcast coming from somewhere in the D.C. ruins. Apparently they had put up more towers and were now being broadcast up to three hundred miles from where the station was located. Vault 324, from what we learned back in school, is situated somewhere near the location of what was once Baltimore, Maryland, which would be around two hundred miles from Washington D.C.

Suddenly, the radio found the station and belted out the sound loud and clear. Abigail cranked the volume as loud as the tinny little speakers would go as a strong, commanding voice echoed out of the box.

"- once again, this is a breaking news announcement." There was no mistaking that voice; it was the familiar tone of Galaxy News Radio – the infamous Three-Dog, voice of the people, and fighter of the Good Fight.

Everyone strained to catch what the big message was.

"We announce that all villages, cities, and Vault-Tec Vaults in the Washington D.C. area listening to this frequency - if you are in need of supplies of any and all kinds – that you may send a group of representatives to the Jefferson Memorial in the D.C. ruins to receive and bring back aid to your population. The Brotherhood of Steel has declared the western edge of the D.C. ruins as well as all surrounding area up to one hundred miles safe enough to travel. Be wary, however, that dangers _do_ still exist - the Wasteland ain't no kiddie playground, children."

There was a hushed murmur of excitement throughout the gathered members in the cafeteria as they continued to listen to Three-Dog's announcement. The voice of the people went on to explain that the Brotherhood, along with the Rivet City Security team did not have sufficient numbers to be able to allocate aid to all populations in need, so they have made their best efforts to keep a path to the Jefferson Memorial as safe as possible. This is to be used by anyone travelling to the Memorial to pick up a care shipment of clean water, safe food, and any healing supplies.

Abigail's father, a balding man in his fifties, from somewhere in the ring of people piped up, "Somebody go tell the Overseer to turn on his radio."

Over the course of the week after first hearing the announcement, the Overseer, and a few of the other people with high authority amongst the Vault dwellers, came up with the idea to send out a small group of three people to venture to the Jefferson Memorial and find the means necessary to bring back a supply of the provisions being offered.

This was greeted by everyone else as a spectacular idea. Vault 324 would send three people, armed with as much weaponry and safety gear as they could carry, and they would make the nearly two-hundred mile trek to the Capital Wasteland, secure a wagon from the Brotherhood, and bring back a load of the supplies.

There was only one small issue surrounding this idea. Who would go?

Everyone gathered in the Vault common room to discuss the matter of sending someone for supplies. Some argued that it was an extremely long trip to make – two hundred miles in fact – and the broadcast said that the Brotherhood only confirmed that the designated 'safe' zone of travel is only a one-hundred mile stretch north and south of D.C.

Dr. Roberts announced that the infirmary will indeed eventually run out of supplies, sooner rather than later. Mr. Davis piped up that the water purifier has been deteriorating more and more every month over the last several years and heaven only knows how much longer we will have clean drinking water.

After hearing everyone's side to the decision and then taking a vote on it, the Overseer finally proclaimed, "By a majority victory, it has been decided FOR the dispatch of a small group of Vault citizens to travel to the Jefferson Memorial."

Cheers were raised, fists pumped in the air, and hands clapped at the decision that was reached.

The Overseer quickly raised his hand to silence the small crowd. "And now," he said, "is the important part. Do we have any volunteers?"

Every person present looked around to see who would offer themselves to the hardship and toil that will lie ahead to whomever takes on the challenge.

No one made a move to step forward. Who (is a good question) would take on this trial that may not necessarily be a guaranteed success? Everyone understood the risk that would be taken were they to venture out of the Vault doors into the Wasteland where only-God-knows-what may lie between here and the Jefferson Memorial.

This, I said to myself, was my time to shine.

I stepped forward. "Overseer, sir," I managed to utter, "I will go."

All eyes locked on me instantly. Gasps from a couple of the women were heard. "Henry!" came from Abigail, her and Gary were shocked, their mouths agape at my bold statement as if I had just offered myself to be sacrificed to appease the Gods in some twisted ritual.

I looked over at Abigail and Gary and gave them a small nod as if to say "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing".

Really, I thought, why is everyone so surprised? I mean, I _am_ the only male between the ages of sixteen and twenty-eight. Every other person older than me all have important positions within the Vault, whereas I do not. I'm just a member of the Security team. Any of the other guys I work with could take over my shifts no problem. To be blunt about it, which I am completely okay with, I am the one who is most expendable.

I'm a lone wolf in this Vault. Always have been, always will be. I don't have any family here. My father, as the Overseer tells me, came to Vault 324 on his deathbed, with a small child in his arms. His last dying wish was for his son to grow up healthy and safe. The Overseer opened the Vault doors to let him in, but my father died shortly thereafter. I, only a few weeks old, became an orphan raised in the underground protection of the Vault by the good will of all of the adults.

I don't know what happened to my mother – my father wasn't alive long enough to tell anyone.

I felt that it was, as fate would have it, my destiny to wander out into the world that I was born in. 'Born in the Vault, die in the Vault' or something like that is the old saying. But I, the truth was, _wasn't_ born in the Vault; therefore I will not die in this Vault. I was born _out there_. In the outside world; the world that none of us have ever known except for me in my first few weeks of life - the world that I will once again be reunited with.

The Overseer seemed to understand all of this as if we had some kind of unspoken rapport, as his expression never changed.

"Wait!" came a shout from amongst the people. Gary stepped forward with all the courage he had in him. "If Henry is going, than so am I," he declared.

More gasps from the women along with one angry voice, "Gary! No, you will most certainly not –"

"Yes, I am, Celeste! And nobody is going to stop me!" he shouted.

Celeste, his older sister, was as surprised as everyone else by Gary's sudden insurgence to become a part of the band of 'heroes' who would be venturing into the unknown.

Thanks, buddy. Gary was always someone you could count on no matter what. Most people would be stunned by this particular display of assertiveness coming from him, but us closest to him, me and Abigail, always knew what he was capable of. He may be more of an introvert when it came to others, but the two of us closest to him know what kind of leader he could be.

Just like me, Gary had no parents. He had been raised by Celeste ever since his mother died of an illness when he was a baby and Celeste was only eight. They never really knew their father either. He was killed in some sort of an accident before Gary was born. No one ever really wanted to talk it about it. It was understandable that Celeste would be upset if Gary left; they were the only family each of them had left.

Gary walked over to where I was and stood beside me. "Sir," he said to the Overseer, "I will go too."

The Overseer didn't seem to know how to respond to this. A kid, only fifteen-years-old, willing to go out into the Wasteland?

Unexpectedly, another voice rose from the gathered group. "If Henry and Gary go, then so do I."

In all my life I had never before heard Abigail sound so determined. She stepped forward to join the two of us, much to the displeasure of her father. "Abigail..." he reacted with disbelief.

I knew she would do it. Somewhere in my heart, I knew that if I were to go, then Abigail would follow. In all our years of childhood there was nothing that could separate us, and this, certainly, would not change any of that. Friends to the end, we would always say to each other as kids.

Abigail looked over at me and I met her gaze with a reassuring smile and from that moment I knew that it would be the three of us, the Three Amigos, the Three Musketeers, or whatever historical name of a group of three people we decided to go by, that would be the ones chosen and accepted to be the first people of Vault 324 to walk out those big steel doors into the land beyond.

Please leave a review with any comments and constructive criticism you may have. Much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The three of us stood in a line, eyes wide like long time incarcerated prisoners at the hands of their long-awaited release. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of uneasiness spread throughout me at the thought of us having to fend for ourselves out there.

They wouldn't let us step out completely unprepared and ill-equipped. Each of us had weapons on our shoulders and ammo slung in packets on our waists . I wore an assault rifle on my back, side pockets stuffed full of ammunition. I was the biggest and strongest, so I of course held the biggest gun. Whether I was actually any good with it was a whole different story.

Gary was equipped with a .44 Magnum revolver that had a scope on it. He had always been deadly accurate with guns when practicing on our makeshift shooting range in the basement – shooting tin cans and bottles, Gary almost always hit them dead center from every distance whereas I usually missed horribly - so he would be our choice from long-range if the need ever occurred.

Abigail had on her a 10mm pistol, light and easy to handle, along with a backup one in her bag. I don't think Abigail has ever shot a weapon before in her entire life and hopefully the situation will never arise. Safely behind her back is the place I would want to be. When we get out to the Wasteland, I'll show her everything about gun handling and shooting. I know she'll be fine.

I clutched the two shoulder straps of my backpack, my muscles tight with anticipation. Before us stood a giant metallic wheel that lodged into the wall with edges squared like it was a colossal cog built for a massive machine. Its edges fit into the wall like a perfectly placed jigsaw piece. In the middle of it were the numbers 3-2-4.

One of the Vault men were up at the controls getting things ready. The Overseer was in the room as well, ready to see us off. We had made our good-byes and our farewells to everyone else before entering this final room. They never let people into this room; it had always been against regulations, so we were seeing this vast entrance for the very first time.

Beside the Overseer were Abigail's parents and Gary's sister, Celeste, who were granted special permission to join us in the entrance room. Celeste was of high importance to the Vault; she was one of the Overseer's most important people. She was in charge of the Education department of the Vault. She was the teacher to all the young people of Vault 324 and she did her job with pride. Now she was seeing three of her gifted pupils leave the confines of the very home they've all grown up in.

Celeste looked as if she was holding back a few tears. I had never seen Celeste cry or really let out any emotions at all now that I think about it. She's always been the strongest person I've ever known.

"Don't worry, Celeste", I called over to her. "We'll be alright."

She returned my assurances with a teary smile, her green eyes sparkling.

"Ready on command," shouted the man working the controls.

Gary turned around and ran back to his sister and gave her a giant bear-hug with all that he could muster seeing as he was just over half the height of her.

"Be strong for us, Celeste," he whispered to her, "we're going to be fine, I promise. Henry's going to look out for us no matter what."

Celeste looked down, trying to fight the oncoming rush of maternal emotion that she felt for her little brother. She was pretty much like a mother to him, heck to _all_ of us who grew up in the Vault.

"I know you'll do just fine, Gary," she said to him. She ruffled his hair one last time. "Just remember everything that I've taught you."

"Celeste...," groaned Gary. I managed to stifle a giggle. Celeste was always constantly reminding him about things that she has taught him to the point where he so often would just tune her out as if he were changing the radio station he was listening to. Ever since we decided to leave the Vault, Celeste had made it her personal mission in life to see that the three of us were as educated about the Wasteland as we could possibly be. She made us read volumes of books on topics concerning the Wasteland; Wasteland survival, food and water in the Wasteland, safety in the Wasteland, and everything else literally under the sun. I've never been a great retainer of knowledge; when it comes to books and learning, I have the memory of a sieve. I sure hope the other two at least got _something_ out of all those lessons and lectures from Celeste.

Gary gave her one more squeeze before he let go. "See ya later, sis."

Celeste looked on as he returned to our spot by the door.

Abigail was over by her parents giving them hugs that lasted about a century each. Her mother was sobbing uncontrollably, her father's arm around her shoulders. Abigail – when seeing someone else cry, usually ended up crying herself – submitted to the oncoming pressure to join the waterworks, and the tears came.

I imagine this moment to be a lot more difficult for Abigail's parents than for her. She was nearly a grown woman now, fully capable of her independence, but her parents have been around her for her entire life – from right out of the womb until the present. Abigail had always just been a short jaunt down the Vault corridors from them, a blessing that they always treasured, having their little girl safely in their care with the dangers of the outside world locked away behind a giant steel door.

"Good-bye, Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell," I waved to them.

Mrs. Bramwell wiped away the tears from her face and gave an effort of her best smile along with a returning wave. "Take care, Henry," said Mr. Bramwell, trying to remain the one in check of his emotions.

Abigail left her mother and father's arms to meet us once again.

"Disengage Vault access," commanded the Overseer. The Vault dweller at the panel pressed the appropriate controls and, instantly, a giant laser-like object whirred into life, slowly descending from the ceiling. It was so loud we each had to cover our ears to keep them from exploding. I don't know what the big laser-thing was for, but I unmistakably heard the whirring get louder. I closed my eyes, hands over my ears, as the buzzing bore straight into my skull.

The door disengage alarm came on, its deep, droning warning masking any other sounds in the room. Suddenly, there was a loud WHOOSH of air that blew across my face and through my hair as I knew the door was being extracted from its puzzle-piece fitting.

After a brief moment it stopped and I looked up as the Vault door had come out of its grooves and pushed forward on its track before slowly rolling aside to let in beams of oh-so-beautiful light.

What I remembered most about the photographs that lay on the shelves of my bedroom, were the scenic horizons of the setting sun - the brilliant yellow-orange burning of the landscape like a giant fire raging across all existence.

These photographs of these foreign lands yet unseen to my eyes racked through my mind like images being scrolled through on a computer.

The three of us, friends united and destined to go into this next phase of our lives together – and most importantly – as one.

I drew out each of my arms, palms open, to be met with and grasped by the hands of my friends.

Please leave a review with any comments and constructive criticism you may have. Much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Beyond the gargantuan cog-piece that served as the air-tight lid that sealed us in our glass jar of safety, was not the great expanse of the outside world that we so anticipated. On the other side was more of that which we were so used to. A long dark expanse that curved slightly a ways down, though instead of being lined by the same metal walls of the Vault it was just a tube-like – as close to tube-like as you can get – hallway of jutting, rocky earth that had carelessly being blown into a tunnel that was to serve as the long, cave-like, catacomb into the dark abyss that was our Vault.

In the distance though, past where the tunnel seemed to curve off to the right, came the faint rays of what could only be light from the outside. No artificial illumination could be that particular level of brightness to be able to reach us from the other end of that long pathway. It could only be the Sun.

I saw Abigail and Gary give one final look back at the people that we were leaving behind to fulfill our dreams of passing out into the world that were born to roam free, until history made its mark. Step by step, I moved past the circular opening, leading the way for the others. Our feet came upon rock and dirt, uneven but solid under our weight.

The roof of the tunnel was maybe eight feet high with a width of maybe double that. Ahead of us were no lights along the way, nothing to guide us but the faint radiance of our promised liberty. Like the mythical light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel that people apparently see when it is their time to go, we walked towards our calling light and I felt a sudden rush of calming, a soothing invitation to chase after the light.

We walked, still hand-in-hand, yet we hardly even realized it. Behind us, yet we did not turn our heads to look, the luminescence if the inside of the Vault became smaller and smaller, the few people who remained behind looked out at us, silhouetted in the circular opening of the Vault's doorway.

The cavern was very humid and made the clothes I wore stick to my skin with sudden perspiration. In total, it was maybe two to three hundred feet in length, with a slight curve to the right starting somewhere in the middle.

As we slowly rounded through that curve, the end slowly came within sight. Choosing to walk rather than dash through the dark entrance, it provided us with much more of a steadily built-up climax like in a story.

"There's the entrance!" shouted Gary, bursting over with excitement. He left me and Abigail to bounce ahead of us, unable to contain himself over the dazzling rays of light that shone in at the end of the tunnel. For the most part, the entrance had been sealed shut with rock, except for a small square, inside of which was a door. A regular sized door that you would see anywhere, like in one to a bedroom. Around the door were solid wooden columns that acted as supports for the wooden frame around the square that surrounded it. Nailed together around the door were wooden slabs that filled up the rest of the space, but this whole entrance apparently seemed to be shoddily constructed. Huge gaps were present in the wooden boards around the door and brilliant white light was seeping in and illuminating the rocky cavern close to it.

Gary stopped before it and me and Abigail hurried to catch up. We all stood together taking in the moment – beyond this door was the outside world. The very world that we had waited so long to experience.

I stepped forward, putting my hand on the door to push it open. "Well, shall we?" I asked them. The two of them looked at each other then at me, nodding their heads.

With that, the wooden door creaked as I pushed it open and, instantly, I was swallowed in the divine light of the heavens.

I had to shield my eyes as they took awhile to adjust. None of us had ever stood witness to an object of such immense illuminating rays as the Sun; only if we had stepped inside the metallic furnace of the Vault, with fires raging all around us, the heat melting our skin, would we have been fitfully prepared for the onslaught of roasting warmth, the temperature seemingly at the level at which water boils.

As my eyes were able to stay open without my tear ducts reacting to the light, I was able to see the sun, the sustainer of all life, for the very first time. It was like meeting a famous individual that I had heard so much about and seen pictures of, but never had the privilege to greet.

The thing that floored me the most, however, was the landscape. The Sun was just making its ascension and producing the most awe-inspiring shades of fiery orange, while a pale red danced amongst. It was so much like the photographs of the skylines that I remember so well.

I could tell that Gary and Abigail were having as much of a sensory overload as was I. As beautiful as the horizon was, the land itself was as hauntingly desolate. The tunnel that we had just come out of was half surrounded by rock. We appeared to be on a large hill, that which must be hollowly scraped out to accommodate the needed space our Vault would take up.

We stared out at the world that engulfed us; rocky, treeless terrain seemed to stretch endlessly, massive boulders loose of the earth's surface dotted the landscape. Dead foliage twisted and morphed into bleak decor of a land barren of the life it was once capable of producing.

Abigail had her hands clasped together and raised to her chin as she took a few steps forward; her eyes were slightly red and teary. Whether it was still from the bright glare of the sun or the breathtaking, yet dismal, magnificence of our new world I could not tell.

"This is it, guys," I announced. "This...is it."

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	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

My clothes stuck to my skin and I was not able to peel my shirt away because of the security armour I wore over top. I could tell my hair was damp with sweat when I brushed my hand through it and it came back with a sleek shine. I guess it's a good thing that I never kept my hair that long. The beads of sweat seemed to pool on my forehead and every so often one would roll its way down to my nose or be stopped by my eyelids, causing a brief stinging sensation.

There was no way that we would get very far in this condition. Gary and Abigail were having their share of problems too. We had only been walking maybe half of an hour and Gary already looked like he was two more steps before passing out. I told them to stop.

This security armour, however safe it may be against possible dangers of the Wasteland, was completely unbearable and so I unzipped it and slung it off.

"There is no way we can constantly travel with these on," I proclaimed. "I'm dyin' here."

Gary slumped down to his knees, slinging his pack off of his back and unzipping his armoured jacket.

The armoured jackets, what the Security team had in storage – that they absolutely never used – weren't heavy by any means, but they were thick; made to take a bullet. Might still send you sailing to the ground on your ass, but at least you'll still be alive. Sending us out into the Wasteland without these would be suicide, Celeste had said.

The three of us dropped our packs to the ground and took a seat amongst a few large rocks. I slung the rifle off my back and leaned against one. We were surrounded by a few hills, the desolate scenery unchanged, and we were at this moment at the bottom of a hill, about to start the incline of another.

My shirt underneath the security armour had soaked all around. The scent wafted up to my nostrils, smelling like dirty laundry that had managed to hide underneath the bed, only to be found several weeks later. I wrinkled my nose.

Our three backpacks lay among us, each stuffed to its maximum capacity by things deemed necessary by Celeste and the Overseer. It was the packs that slowed us down the most, but there was nothing we could do about that unless we wanted to discard some weight, therefore running the risk of throwing away something that might prove to be vital in our survival.

After taking off her security armour as well, Abigail lay it over a large rock a few feet away before coming over to sit with us. She wasn't looking, however, and her feet caught a pointy stone sticking up out of the ground and she fell hard, her hands and knees taking the brunt of the impact as she emitted a surprised "Oh!"

"Abby –," I jumped up and rushed over to her.

She sat on her knees, her face scrunched into a wince of obvious pain. I tried to help her up and when she pulled her hands away from the ground, I saw that there was a large scrape along the palm of her right hand, blood poking out from under the skin along the cut.

"Oh I'm sorry, Henry, I didn't look where I was going – "

"Abby, you're hurt," I said, holding her right hand and inspecting the damage. It wasn't too bad; it'll just need some cleaning out and a bandage wrapped around.

She was visibly upset with herself. This wasn't completely unlike Abigail however; she frequently tripped over things or knocked something over. Some people are just more prone to accidents, like Abby for instance. I secretly hoped that this wouldn't be a frequent occurrence on our trip; there'd be no more first-aid supplies for the rest of us.

"Just let me grab the stuff from my pack," I said. I snatched up my backpack and opened it, digging around for the small first-aid kit that I remember sticking inside. All the first-aid supplies – stimpaks, rad-away, and simple first-aid provisions were kept in my pack along with all our ammunition, materials for making a fire and our sleeping gear. Abigail carried the pack with all of our food and water, while Gary carried all the miscellaneous knick-knacks: electronic compass, map (possibly outdated), a small water purifier for when our personal supply runs out, and journals and papers that Gary and Celeste had made with any small tidbit of information they deemed useful to remember for any issue that may occur. This included things like: what is and isn't safe to eat and how to cook them, tips on bartering and trading, gun safety and maintenance procedures, among other things.

I opened up the first-aid kit and took the lid off the bottle of anti-bacterial solution. "This is going to sting a little bit," I warned Abigail before I squirted some of it on her hand before she had time to think about it.

She let out a short cry as the solution did its job on her palm. "We're going to need to bandage this up."

I took a roll of gauze and lightly wrapped it around her palm. I was gentle with her hand and careful not to press against her cut. I chanced a glance up at Abby; her mouth was clamped shut against the uncomfortable pain the anti-septic was probably causing. She was looking at me with those big blue eyes.

"Thanks, Henry," she said sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I should be more careful next time. I promise I will be."

"Abby, don't worry about it," I laughed it off. "You're all right, that's all that matters."

We went and sat back down beside Gary who had pulled out the crinkled map from his pack. It was dated from before the Great War which was the only kind of maps that we had access to. Whether any of these landmarks or populations still existed was worth as good a guess as any.

"We are _here_," Gary pointed to a spot on his map. The map had many lines, both vertical and horizontal, going across it like what we would draw when playing a game of X's and O's. These were things that Gary had told me were called lines of attitude and lawn-gitude, or something like that. The place that Gary had pointed to was inside the same square as a giant circle, the largest one on the small map, and had the name _Baltimore_ written beside it.

Gary calculated the distance and said, "We should be able to see it some time tomorrow."

I grew excited about seeing an actual city where hundreds of thousands of people lived all in one place. I wanted to get up and run there right this second; and I would too if it wasn't so damned hot.

I asked Abigail to pass me a bottle of water. I took a gulp out of it and then passed it around.

After we gathered our gear and I slung my rifle back across my shoulders, we continued on after our brief stop. It was still as hot as hell but we had stuffed our security armour into our backpacks; the fabric stretched to the limits against all our supplies.

We trudged over a few more hills, each one seemingly to be larger than the last. I complained to Gary how he was making us take the most back-breaking route.

When we got over the next hill, however, the mounds stopped and down below was a large pool of water. Being it so hot out here, and considering how thirsty I constantly was, I would have jumped for joy at this sight, but I didn't. This was the most uninviting pool of water I could have ever imagined.

We made our way down the hill to this pond of liquid where, I'm sure, not even a dehydrated dying man on his last legs of life would attempt to drink from. The water was ugly shades of green, with dead plant life floating along the edges, making a blackish muck that got as thick as the cement mix they sometimes used for walls in the Vault. I could swear that there was also a green kind of mist floating up from the pond, wafting into the air and taking its ugly odour with it. The whole thing looked as if some hundred-foot giant (if such things existed) had vomited its stomach contents all over the land.

As we got closer we were able to smell it. The reek was stomach-churning, causing my gag reflexes to almost kick in. Abigail's hands went straight to cover her nose and mouth; her eyes clenching shut as if the odour were so thick it could make her eyes sting.

"I think I'm gonna puke," Gary said as he pulled his shirt up over his face to just below his eyes.

There was never a worse smell that I have ever encountered in my life. This was the smell of the outside world; the smell of the Wasteland; the smell of Death.

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End file.
